OK … the celebrations are over, and it is back to the same old stuff that we celebrated the passing of. Mutts are finally at rest. We didn’t expect our newest neighbor would be a fan of fireworks. He has pets of his own.

But starting at sundown and going to midnight, his weezers, zingers, bangers and sparkling chirpers lit the back yard in monotonous succession while four frightened mutts in my house tried to find something to crawl into. He must have spent two-weeks wages on the damned things, and he lives in a double wide.

And the extra large helping of black-eyed peas and corn bread at dinner didn’t help the old stomach ulcer, and it made life miserable until sunup in retaliation.

Gray skies and late night rains in the forecast with temps in the 40’s. A rainy week ahead it seems. But it is winter, and I don’t go out in it anymore. So as long as I got power, I’m good. Snook was up much earlier and got the banjo playin’ going for the spoiled budgie. So its coffee, fiddles and banjo’s bringing in the New Year. Just like it did the old year.